


A Perfect Forest Through So Many Splintered Trees

by deathishauntedbyhumans



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Anal Sex, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Light Masochism, M/M, No Lube, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Timeline What Timeline, Voyeurism, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, it’s Julian idk what you expect, pain play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-08 00:11:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19095793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathishauntedbyhumans/pseuds/deathishauntedbyhumans
Summary: Julian and Muriel meet backstage after one of Julian’s shows.





	A Perfect Forest Through So Many Splintered Trees

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by Julian and Muriel’s interaction in HH when they both land on the theatre. 
> 
> Title comes from Poe’s _Haunted_.

Muriel meets Julian backstage after the rest of the people in the theatre have moved onto bigger and better things than discussing the play that’s just been shown for them. He’s lighter on his feet than most people realise, given his stature; it helps that most people forget about him within seconds of looking away, too.

Julian doesn’t forget about him, though, not anymore. The fact that the thought warms his heart instead of freezing it makes Muriel feel… tingly and strange, whenever it crosses his mind.

And speaking of…

“Ohhoho!” A laugh in his ear, two hands braced against his back, and a flushed, grinning Julian standing on his toes greet Muriel when he turns his head towards the source of the sound. “You _did_ come!”

Muriel makes a half-hum, half-grunt sort of sound in affirmation, and Julian’s grin grows impossibly wider. The hands on Muriel’s back shift, sliding around his middle instead so that Julian can sidle up ridiculously close to him.

When Julian kisses him, Muriel can smell myrrh on him, mixing pleasantly with the bitter tang of sweat and the barest hint of alcohol on his breath. His entire body reacts to the kiss, large hands settling only mildly awkwardly against Julian’s hips. He’s getting better at this, this casual affection that Julian is so intent on both showering him with and being showered with in return. It never matters much _what_ Muriel does, so long as he does it with love laced behind his actions.

Julian’s flush is darker when he pulls away and shifts his weight backwards, using Muriel’s hands to rest against. “So! Uh… What’d you think of my performance up there?”

“I wasn’t watching,” Muriel rumbles. It’s as deadpan as he gets, and it’s also a blatant lie.

“Wha—? Wasn’t watching, my ass,” Julian says with a snort. He _knows_ it’s a lie, and Muriel is well-aware that he knows it. He doubts he could have said it if there was even a _hint_ of a chance it would be misconstrued. “Actually…” And now Julian is smirking, and Muriel is actively concerned about whatever he’s planning, now, because that’s his _I have a bad idea because I’m Julian Devorak and I like to pretend I don’t have a brain_ face. “I’m pretty sure you were _definitely_ watching my ass.”

Muriel feels heat rise to his face. Julian laughs deviously, like that’s exactly what he’d intended to happen, and shuffles his legs until he can wiggle his hips and, subsequently, his ass. Muriel can feel it from where his hands still lie on Julian’s waist. “I can’t blame you, though. My ass _is_ a rather stunning specimen, if I do say so mys— _oomph_.”

It’s easy to slide his hands from Julian’s hips to his ass, and it’s even easier to tug him closer to shut him up by using his new handholds. The sound Julian makes nearly makes Muriel huff a laugh. It’s worth it, though, because Julian is definitely enjoying himself, if the half-hardness of his cock that Muriel can now feel against his own thigh is anything to go on.

Muriel hums softly, and Julian shivers. “ _Oh,”_ he breathes out. “You _were_ watching.”

“Maybe.” Muriel experimentally adjusts his grip, flexing his fingers and tightening his hold on Julian’s ass before letting himself relax again. “I enjoyed watching you,” he says into Julian’s ear, voice soft and low, more honest than an attempt at seduction. Julian lets out a choked whine and shuffles one of his legs again, this time until one of Muriel’s thighs is firmly pressed against his crotch. Muriel tightens his grip on Julian’s ass again to hold him in place. “And I’m glad you invited me.”

“Fuck.” Julian’s eyes have slammed shut, and Muriel can feel him rocking against his thigh in an attempt to get himself off. Muriel doesn’t understand how this is so alluring —they’re technically still in _public,_ even if they’re only backstage with no other actors in sight— but it _is._ He blames Julian. Julian, who’s so easy to tease, who invites him to shows and stays with him on nights when Inanna’s warmth alone isn’t enough heat to keep the cold from creeping in. Julian, who used to share his plight in love until they’d found one another. Julian, who —against all odds— has become his heart, his home.

Muriel kisses him on instinct, slow and deep, and Julian throws himself blindly into the kiss and lets Muriel lick into his mouth.

This isn’t the first time Muriel has seen Julian perform onstage, but it _is_ the first time since their relationship blossomed into the fire it’s become. It’s also the first time Julian has _invited_ him to something like this, and Muriel can’t help but feel honoured. Julian, for any of his faults, truly is a wonder to behold when he’s acting for an audience. The way he moves is astounding, and when he speaks, people _listen._ Muriel knows he isn’t the only one who knows it.

He _is,_ however, the only one who gets to see Julian like this, panting into his mouth when Muriel moves his thigh to press against Julian’s cock.

“We could get caught,” Muriel murmurs, hardly removing his lips from Julian’s. He can _feel_ Julian react to the prospect, cock twitching against Muriel’s thigh, and Julian’s sharp intake of breath only serves to further cement Muriel’s determination to continue.

“Nobody comes back after they’ve left,” Julian gets out between harsh gasps of air, grinding shamelessly against Muriel. “They’re too busy —ooh, _fuck—_ too busy getting drunk.”

Muriel only hums to acknowledge Julian’s explanation. He isn’t thinking straight. The taste and smell and _feel_ of Julian against him keeps him from panicking at the thought of someone catching them like this, because the world… is never as frightening, when Julian is with him.

“Would— _oh, Muriel, fuck—_ would it be too much to ask for you to— _haah_ — for you to fuck me?”

There’s a desperate edge to Julian’s voice, one that Muriel recognises, one that goes straight to his own quickly-filling cock.

He should say no, because they’re in _public,_ and it’s an awful idea. Truly, truly awful. But Julian grinds against him and Muriel’s cock is pressed against Julian’s thigh, now, and coherent thought feels much like a thing of the past. He knows what he _wants,_ what they both _need,_ and there’s no reason he can think of they shouldn’t take that here and now.

Muriel captures Julian’s lips again in response, and he swallows the moan that Julian lets out as the kiss turns very quickly to dirty and hard.

When they’re both panting again, Muriel pulls away and glances around until his gaze falls on a fairly sturdy-looking table. It isn’t a bed, but it will do for their purposes as long as Muriel keeps most of his weight on the ground. He can do that.

Julian’s glazed, dilated eyes slowly dart to the other side of the room until they find what Muriel has found, and he grins and snatches Muriel’s hand before leading him wordlessly to the table. “You sly dog,” he murmurs, and Muriel firmly pretends he isn’t blushing. Instead, he reaches for the drawstring of Julian’s costume pants and pulls until he can shimmy them down, off of Julian’s hips and down his legs. Julian’s cock springs unceremoniously free, nearly smacking against Muriel’s cheek.

“You’re not wearing underwear,” Muriel observes, voice rumbling soft and slow. Julian makes a high-pitched whining sound and then shrugs when Muriel glances up at him.

“No time for underwear on stage,” he huffs out. Muriel rolls his eyes.

He doesn’t take off his own pants. Instead, he undoes the belt around his waist just enough to shift the furs that hang over his crotch. Julian watches him hungrily, his fingers and his cock both twitching in anticipation.

Muriel releases his cock from the confines of his own trousers while making eye contact with Julian, and he can _see_ Julian’s pupils dilate, even with the low light around them.

“Bend,” Muriel says.

Julian hastens to obey. He stumbles a little — _foolish,_ Muriel thinks, a fond warmth accompanying the thought— on the pants still pooled around his feet before ultimately bending over the table and sticking his ass up in Muriel’s direction.

Muriel hums, because everything is pleasant in the haze of his arousal. Julian’s murmured _please_ only spurs him forward in a movement almost as clumsy as Julian’s had been. He wraps one arm around Julian’s body to grasp at his cock. 

“ _Fuck,”_ Julian hisses from between teeth that are obviously clenched. He rocks frantically, as much as he can, shoving his cock into Muriel’s fist. He’s already dripping with precum, and Muriel spreads it over the head of his cock, over the shaft, along his own hand.

“It’s going to hurt,” Muriel warns against Julian’s ear. Julian shudders and jerks his ass further back, grinding into Muriel’s erection.

“ _Good—hngh.”_ His hiss ends in a high-pitched whine when Muriel’s hand leaves his cock again, and Muriel rubs his now-slickened fingers against the rim of Julian’s entrance.

Muriel doesn’t always understand Julian’s desire for _pain._ He doesn’t like hurting _anyone_ , much less the man he loves. It had been a spot of sore contention the first few times they had… done _this_ —made love, Muriel supplies for himself, the words giddy and lighthearted— until Julian had lazily straddled Muriel one morning while they’d both been sleepy and just-waking-up and gently threatened to keep things physically platonic between them if they couldn’t work it out. _I can’t get good and fucked by someone who’s afraid to hurt me, Muriel. I’m not made of glass._

And Julian _isn’t_ made of glass. The way he jerks back against the hardly-prepared fingers Muriel teases against his rim proves as much. It awakens a hunger inside of him that he nearly doesn’t recognise when he’s allowed to be rough with Julian, because he knows that Julian _trusts_ him. He might be hurting him, but he’s hurting him in a way that, strangely enough, benefits them _both._

“Muriel, if you don’t get _to_ it, I’m going to—“ Muriel interrupts without thought; Julian sounds as desperate as he feels. “ _Ohfuckohh—“_

There’s definitely resistance as Muriel presses the tip of his cock to Julian’s hole, but Julian spreads his legs wider and reaches back to pull his cheeks apart, and Muriel bites his own lip hard to keep from making any kind of embarrassing noise. Julian is already loud enough for the both of them.

Julian lets out a garbled, jumbled noise that Muriel isn’t sure what to make of.

“Julian—“ Muriel begins in concern, husky and rough, pausing in movement immediately. Julian’s entire body gives a shudder, and then he _shoves_ himself backwards, impaling himself in one swift thrust on Muriel’s cock.

Muriel doesn’t succeed in keeping himself silent. He lets out a breathy groan as Julian _keens_ instead, his hands flying to Julian’s hips and squeezing hard. There will probably be bruises there, for at least as long as bruises will last on Julian’s body. Muriel has gotten better at being okay with that.

The thrill of taking Julian like this where anyone could walk in and see isn’t lost on Muriel for a moment. It makes everything feel like it's been thrown into sharper focus than usual. Every sound Julian makes, every movement of his body to adjust to the sudden intrusion of Muriel’s cock all at once into him… It all feels so absolutely, starkly _real._ It lights a fire inside of his chest, one that crackles and sparks and rises ever higher with every hiss of air from between Julian’s teeth.

“Please, Muriel, my love, _please—“_

It doesn’t take more than the choked whine from Julian’s already-wrecked throat to pull Muriel back to the moment. He takes a shuddering breath before he slowly pulls back, back, and then thrusts forward again with a quick snap of his hips.

He sets a steady pace like that, pounding into Julian as Julian whines and yelps and whimpers. The threat of being heard feels far away and all too real at the same time, and it spurs Muriel further, further, fucking Julian harder and faster until Julian is sobbing with every thrust.

When Muriel wraps one arm around Julian’s body again and wraps a now-sweaty fist around his cock, Julian _screams._ Muriel feels Julian’s release paint his fingers, and the spasming of his body shoves Muriel roughly over the edge behind him.

As he usually is, Muriel is the first of them to recover, and he carefully slides his spent cock from Julian’s body before manhandling Julian to face him. He kisses him softly, tremblingly, until he feels Julian lazily begin to reciprocate.

“You should come see my shows more often,” Julian murmurs, sounding sated and smiling against Muriel’s lips.

After everything they’ve just done, _that_ still manages to make Muriel flush. He kisses Julian again soundly before pulling away to redress himself.

The gravity of the situation settles in as Muriel helps Julian attempt to clean up any remnants of their activities against the table, and it doesn’t help the heat that continues to pool in his cheeks.

And in other places, but Muriel is firmly not thinking about that anymore.

“You should take me home,” Julian says loftily, once the room is more-or-less the way it had been when Muriel had walked in. He walks over and reaches up to drape both of his arms over Muriel’s shoulders, linking his fingers behind Muriel’s head. “Hmm?”

The suggestive wink Julian gives makes Muriel _want_ all over again, and as he gives in and kisses Julian once more, he privately agrees that, yes, maybe he _should_ come see Julian’s shows more often after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m,,,, so glad I’m finally done with this fic holy shit.
> 
> Kudos/comments are love! Come scream at me on tumblr @deathishauntedbyhumans.


End file.
